Just Once
by Galen Hithwen
Summary: Modern AU. The story follows their fight against the templars in 2012 and their complicated relationships. Mostly Des/Shaun but also A/M and E/L chapters. M for language, violence and naughty bits.
1. Chapter 1

My first fic in this fandom but it's one I've followed closely since the first game came about. This fic will mostly be Desmond/Shaun, but there will also be whole chapters dedicated to Altair/Malik and Ezio/Leonardo, because I sort of love them all.

And here is a little introduction to what this modern AU will consist of and what it is that makes it apart from canon:

What if Altair and Ezio were not Desmond's ancestors but rather unrelated assassin's living at the same time as him. How would their lives mesh together? I'm going to say that the war between templars and assassins is still very much alive and the three of them are still a part of the assassin's order. Both sides are not using the animus to find the apple but rather good old archeology and searching for clues. Other than those three being a part of the order, you can assume I'm going to jumble up what everyone else does.

Mind you, having said that, nothing is really certain for me at this point. I had this idea in my head and like most of those story ideas I just had to get it out. I've never really been one for lots of planning though, I'm mostly making this up as I go. So I'm not entirely sure how long this will end up being, just that I've already written two chapters. And I'm rambling. No surprise there.

Without further ado, the first chapter...

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><p>It is the year 2012 and Desmond Miles is just another bartender working just another shift in what looks like just another bar on the west side of Manhattan. Well almost anyways... The bar is located in the village. It's one of those low-key, slightly sketchy, types of places which is mostly filled with the artistic and creative types that live around the area. The lighting is always dim, the bar sightly smokey (laws be damned) and full enough with patrons for someone to get lost in the crowd easily enough. It was understated and popular because it wasn't mainstream, whatever that meant. On Fridays and Saturdays there was live music which could be described as passable entertainment, typically little alternative and indie bands trying to make a name for themselves in whatever way they could in this big city. For Desmond, it was home.<p>

Temporarily anyways. He felt himself settling in here and he knew that was a bad thing. He could never settle anywhere for fear that either the assassins, or worse the templars, found him. He feared he would have to pack up soon and move on to a different city. Maybe he'd even try Europe. That might be nice for a change. For the moment, he couldn't help but want to stay. Just a little bit longer. Maybe just a week or two. That wouldn't be so bad would it? Except yes it would, because he'd been saying that for the last couple weeks and he was already overdue. He'd been careful not to get caught so far by not staying in any one place for too long and he was testing boundaries by staying here. Nine years he'd been playing hide and seek with both orders and he was_ tired_ of the deceit. He just wanted to have a place of his own where he could actually have a lease and not have to pay month by month rent. A place where he could start to put together some possessions, maybe invest in a couch or something. Maybe even start to put together a life with people and all that. What a novel concept!

One night stands were one thing but a relationship was something he just couldn't risk. Not even friendship. It wasn't safe for himself or for that person. He could have to leave at a moment's notice, not even go back to his shitty apartment and just run if need be. How could he just leave someone behind like that? Safer if he didn't have any attachments, that was how. Who knows what either order might do to someone he was involved with anyways? And why was he even thinking about this right now? The bar was packed, customers were lined up along the bar and he was day dreaming about some shmoopy romance? Good job Des. That'll pay the rent. Since when had he turned in to such a dreamer anyways?

"Hey! Can I get a drink already?" some guy barked at him, looking annoyed and waving a twenty in his face like Desmond should drop everything he was doing to get it for him. He looked out of place in his crisp pinstriped suit and like he'd never been told no in his life. Desmond snatched the twenty from the guy's fingertips and looked at him pointedly until the guy ordered a bud lite. Wow, smooth choice asshole. Especially if you liked that swill they marketed as beer. Water with beer flavouring perhaps. Regardless of his own distaste for the beverage, and maybe the man who ordered it, Desmond grabbed a bottle from the fridge, removing the bottle cap with a smooth movement and sliding it back to the guy with his change and an annoyed glance. No tip. No surprise.

Desmond sighed. He shouldn't have been such a dick to the guy, regardless of whether or not the guy was a dick first. After all, he mostly paid his bills with his tips and if he wasn't getting tipped well... that was an issue. Desmond looked at the seductive smiles on his fellow bartenders faces as they flirted their customers out of their hard earned money and shook his head. Sometimes he felt like they were sort of similar to prostitutes the way they acted. Laughing at their customers lame jokes, acting like they cared when they told them their life story, but worst of all was having to act nice to people you just really wanted to punch in the face. As if to prove his point a blonde Barbie-wannabe looking girl sidled up to the bar and Desmond turned on the charm as he made his way over to her, ignoring two guys along the way. Hey, he knew where his next tip was coming from and it sure as hell wasn't coming from them. Fixing his best smile on his face, he leaned against the bar, "What can I get you hun?"

"Well, I guess I'll have whatever you suggest. You look like a man who knows what a girl wants," she replied, biting her lip in mock shyness as the mischievous look in her eyes told a different story. Desmond wanted to laugh at the obvious (and really quite poor) line. He'd heard his share of them in his bartending career, but it didn't get any less amusing for him. Or pathetic for them. He spotted a couple girls over her shoulder who were watching their interaction with too much interest not to be her friends setting her up on some sort of dare to flirt with the hot bartender.

Containing the need to beat his fists on the counter in an outburst of raucous laughter, he instead chuckled seductively and smiled back at her, firing an equally cheesy and obvious line back at her, "How about a little sex on the beach?"

She giggled at the innuendo and Desmond wanted to roll his eyes at how simple that was but instead went about preparing the drink as he picked up the bottle of peach schnapps and the bar rail vodka and began pouring. He finished the drink and handed it to her. A ten made its way in to his hands and she smiled brightly at him, "No change."

Desmond winked at her and flashed a bright smile back at her, "Enjoy," he said simply, not trusting himself not to make some stupid comment to ruin this tip too. She went back to a group of young twenty something girls and they all started giggling to themselves as they looked at him obviously and began gossiping. Probably just became old enough to drink. Maybe not even. Maybe they even used fake IDs to get in. The doorman was known for letting in underage girls if he thought they were pretty enough. Or if they were showing enough cleavage. In any case, Desmond almost felt dirty after the interaction. He hated leading people on and playing along but it was all a part of the job. As he turned back to the register to put the money in, he let the mask drop as a sigh escaped him.

"Is leaving you a bloody five dollar tip on one drink the only way to get a drink in this establishment?" a lilting British accent carried over the yelling voices.

Desmond looked up and smirked as he saw the man that went with the voice. He hadn't quite become a regular, but the man had taken to hanging out at the bar over the last couple of weeks. Chatting with the Brit had been mostly at a minimum but Desmond had discovered this much so far: he was terribly sarcastic, had no tolerance for stupid people and despite Desmond's better judgement, was actually kind of cute in a geeky sort of way.

"It is on a Saturday night. You've got another thing coming if you think I'm serving you for your looks..." Desmond walked over and stopped in front of the frowning man. He poured him his usual whiskey sour, shaking it up in the mixer as he looked down at the man sitting on the bar stool in front of him. Shaun didn't look like he belonged here at all. Most people were in their casual wear, which entailed an assortment of strange clothes. For Shaun, casual meant unbuttoning an extra button on his dress shirt and rolling up his sleeves, which Desmond was now noting had revealed some surprisingly muscular forearms.

"Funny because I think you just did. Unless you're saying I'm just as pretty as that girl you made that nauseating display over, in which case I think I might be a little insulted," the Brit said, a hint of annoyance in his voice that seemed to be permanently apart of his speech.

"What's your name again anyways? You keep showing up here for some strange reason and I figure if you're trying to implement yourself as some kind of regular I best start learning your name." Desmond knew perfectly well what his name was, but he just liked to hear the little annoyed huff that came from the man across from him every time he asked.

As if on cue, Shaun sighed in annoyance and glowered at Desmond, "How is it that you can bloody well remember my drink order but not my name? That makes absolutely zero sense."

A shrug was the only response that Desmond had before he smirked and crossed his arms in front of him and leaned on the bar in front of Shaun. "Call it a bartender thing. Easy to match a drink to a face. Names. Not so much. You didn't answer my question..." Why did he get so much enjoyment out of making this man so flustered? Maybe it was the slight flush that came over his cheeks when he really got him annoyed or the way Shaun just seemed to keep coming back for more. Either way, Desmond had decided of all the few times they had conversed he just enjoyed the man's company overall. Maybe he was a masochist. Maybe Shaun was too.

"I didn't answer because I've told you already three bloody times haven't I?" Shaun groused, taking a long sip from his drink. "Shaaaaun Haaastiiiings," the man said slowly like Desmond was an idiot that he was trying to teach a complex problem to. "It's really quite simple."

"Right! I remember now," Desmond said as he straightened up, flashing Shaun one of the few genuine smiles he had cracked all night as Shaun rolled his eyes at Desmond. "Now if you don't mind, you're monopolizing all my time. I have other customers. And I don't see any of those five dollar tips coming from your tight purse strings, so I'll be seeing you later..."

A chuckle escaped from Desmond as he turned his back and walked away, hearing something along the lines of 'bloody cocky american' muttered under Shaun's breath. He served a couple more customers and got a couple nice tips. Clearly his good mood was making him more likeable to the other patrons. Maybe Shaun should start coming in for his daily abuse before the rush of customers so that Desmond would get tipped better.

Lucy, one of the other bartenders he worked with, grabbed his arm and pulled him in to the back, "Can you help me with these empty bottles Des? Vieri called in sick. Again."

"Sure thing Luce," Desmond said brightly, stacking a couple boxes on top of each other and carrying them to the back with Lucy. She definitely had the better end of this deal with her one box to Desmond's three. Setting them down in the store room, Lucy sat on a beer keg and pulled out a cigarette, offering the box to Desmond. He didn't really smoke all that often, but now seemed like as good a time as any. That and it gave them an excuse to sit down for 10 minutes, claiming to be on a smoke break. Which he supposed they would be after all. He took one before handing the box back. Pulling the lighter he always kept on him for the patrons sake, he held it across to light her cigarette first before he lit his own.

"Always the gentleman," Lucy teased, exhaling the smoke in a smooth puff. She had this mischievous smile she was trying to keep off her face but failing miserably to do so.

"That's me. The very definition," Desmond grinned back at her, inhaling deeply and looking at her skeptically before he started laughing, causing the smoke he'd just inhaled to come out in a great cloud in front of him,"Alright I can't take it anymore. What's with the smirk?"

"That librarian has a thing for you. I thought his tongue was going to loll out of his mouth when you bent down to pick up those cases just now. You should do something about it," she laughed, leaning back against the wall behind her. "He's not terrible looking for the scholarly kind."

"A) He's not a librarian, he's a history T.A. at NYU and B) what makes you so sure he's even interested? Or that I am for that matter?" Desmond had to admit that he was a little curious. He'd thought about it on a couple of occasions that Shaun had sat at his bar. He wouldn't mind showing Shaun an intimate tour of his bedroom, but the guy didn't strike him as the one night stand type and that was all Desmond could offer anyone.

Lucy laughed outright, shaking her head at a confused Desmond, "Alright well first off, you just showed you were interested right there with that little regurgitation of personal information on the guy. And I know that he is because he only seems to come around when you're working."

Desmond shrugged a shoulder, taking another drag of his cigarette, "That doesn't mean anything. That could just be a weird coincidence or something. I usually work the same nights. Maybe those are just the nights he has off..."

"Oh really?" Lucy challenged, looking smug, "If that's the case, then why did he come in on Wednesday and asked if you were working? Vieri told him you weren't and he looked all disappointed and left. Didn't even stay for a drink after coming all the way down here. Sounds to me like someone only likes to be served by a certain tall, dark and handsome bartender. Probably wouldn't mind if you serviced him in other ways either... Might be weird if you accept money for that though."

"Hardy fucking har," Desmond quipped, rolling his eyes. He had to admit this was an interesting development. Was that why Shaun kept coming back? Just to see him? Seemed silly. Shaun didn't even seem to like him. Maybe insulting people was the British way of flirting.

"Why don't you just take him home with you already?" Lucy asked bluntly, stomping out her cigarette so they could go back to work.

Desmond followed suit and shrugged his shoulders, "He doesn't really strike me as a guy that would be comfortable with a one night stand. And I sure as hell am not ready for any kind of commitment with anyone." That wasn't entirely true, but it was better than the truth. And that was certainly something he couldn't voice out loud. "I just don't think it would be a good idea. Plus, isn't it sort of a house rule that we don't sleep with customers?"

Lucy laughed as they walked back to the main area of the bar, "Do you think anyone actually follows those rules? And don't give me that. I don't believe for a minute that you've ever followed anyone's rules if you didn't want to. You're stalling. And I'm going to found out why..."

"Drop it Lucy," Desmond grumbled, not liking where this conversation was going all of a sudden, "I just... he seems like a nice guy under all that hostility and I don't want to see him get hurt."

"Just talk to him..." she said over her shoulder as he sauntered over to a couple college boys with a predatory look. Desmond frowned as he looked over at Shaun, who had since pulled out a book and started to read in Desmond's absence. Desmond couldn't help but feel that this was going to end badly somehow.

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><p>So that's it. First chapter. Please read and review because comments are the best motivators for me :) CC is always welcome.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

I'm totally neglecting my Dragon Age fic to write this right now. Apologies DA friends! I will post that chapter soon!

I forgot to mention in the first chapter that this story contains yaoi or slash or whatever you feel like calling it, though I feel that should have been obvious from the story description.

Don't like, don't read. This story has male/male scenes and I won't tolerate anyone making rude comments about it. Also, I'm using my room mate's old laptop right now since mine recently died and the keys tend to stick on it. While I catch most of the typos in my various revisions, I'm only human. So apologies if I miss a letter from time to time, they tend to be the 's' and 'l'.

Lovely! Alrighty, here is chapter two. Enjoy!

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><p>Desmond walked over to where Shaun was reading and stood in front of him for a moment, cutting up some limes absently as he observed the grad student. He had little lines of concentration crinkling his forehead and the corners of his mouth as he read over something that looked like more than a little light reading. He didn't even realize he was staring until the Brit spoke up, not even looking up from the book in front of him as he addressed Desmond.<p>

"It's not polite to stare, you know..." he murmured against the hand that was propping him up.

Desmond started a little and barely missed his index finger with the knife as he cursed softly. Putting the knife safely to the side, he crossed his arms over his chest, "You've been sitting there with an empty drink in front of you for twenty minutes. Either order a new one or liberate that stool for a paying customer. Come to think of it... you haven't even paid for that one yet college boy."

Shaun frowned and looked up from the book he was reading, throwing a bar napkin in between the pages so he didn't lose his spot. "You would kick me out just for sitting with an empty glass?" he asked incredulously, eyes narrowed a little as he looked at Desmond. He must have looked serious because Shaun finally snapped out another response as he reached for his wallet, "Fine. Here's a fifty. That should pay for the first one and a few more shouldn't it? Just keep 'em coming, bloody yankee bastard..." he muttered, going back to reading his book. Must have been pretty damn interesting, whatever it was.

Desmond stared at the money for a moment before grabbing it and going over to put it in the till and then proceeed to make another whiskey sour for Shaun. He slid the drink over to the man, who was trying to look busy reading and Desmond felt himself chuckling a little, "Am I really so transparent that you've figured out that you can buy my attention? Fifty dollars is enough to have me filling that glass until closing time... only a couple hours away, but still..."

"Wow. Fifty dollars for your undivided attention?" Shaun grumbled, eyes still glued to his book. Why was he focused so hard on that damn book anyways? "Who knew the rates were so cheap? Don't sell yourself short now. You're high class material. You could probably get... dare I say it? Sixty whole dollars." Sarcasm laced every word he spoke and Desmond laughed at the dry humour. He could swear that he saw the corners of Shaun's mouth turn up ever so slightly when he had laughed. That mask of his didn't hold up so well after a couple of drinks. Curiosity poked at Desmond and he wondered how much further it would slip if he could get the englishman drunk.

"What you think I could do better? A hundred maybe? I think I'd have to get a few more drinks in to you to get that sort of money. Better drink up then, rent is due at the end of the week," he prompted, watching as Shaun smirked and held up his glass.

"Well then. Cheers mate," he teased, words dripping with sarcasm once more as he drained his drink.

Desmond grinned a bit mischievously as he was already shaking another one up for Shaun, refilling the glass in front of him as Shaun turned his attention back to his book. Their little game continued like this for the rest of the night. Lots more teasing and drinking (on Shaun's part) until the last of the patrons were filing out of the bar, well after last call. Shaun leaned heavily on the bar, trying to look sober but failing miserably with his half-lidded eyes and slurred words. The problem with sweet or fruity drinks like a whiskey sour was that you didn't realize how much you were drinking until it was too late. That and the sugar made for a bitch of a hangover.

Lucy brought a hand up to cover her mouth to stop herself from laughing as she looked at Shaun. She shook her head at Desmond, who shrugged and smiled sweetly at her, "What?" he asked, trying to be the picture of innocence.

"Mmhmm..." Lucy murmured, waving him over to the door. "Why don't you make sure Shaun gets home alright? He's too drunk to make it back to wherever it is he lives in one piece. Especially this late at night. Looking like that." Desmond started to protest and Lucy held her hands up. "I'll clean up. Don't worry." Desmond appraised Shaun and realized she was right. He'd never seen him so drunk. The guy would be hard pressed to get home in one piece without passing out in an alley first or getting mugged or something. Desmond felt just the tiniest bit responsible. Okay, entirely responsible but that wasn't the point.

"Alright well good night then..." Desmond said, as he hopped the bar so he didn't have to go all the way around. Gathering Shaun's book, he tucked it in to the man's book bag around his shoulders and buckled it up so he wouldn't lose his things. It seemed important enough to him earlier. "Come on Shaun. I'm going to drive you home."

"If you get lost or he can't remember where he lives... maybe you could just take him back to your place Des..." Lucy shouted her idea across the empty bar as they made slow progress toward the door.

"Good _night_ Lucy," Desmond growled, putting an arm around Shaun's waist since he was slightly wobbly and hooking the man's arm around his shoulders to steady him. The fresh night air filled his lungs when they got outside and he smiled. And now his favourite part of the night. Time with his baby. He manoeuvered Shaun towards the parking lot and smiled as his ride came in to view. "Shaun, I'd like to introduce you to my baby... Baby this is Shaun. He's going to be joining us tonight."

He paused and unhooked Shaun's arm from around him, holding his hands out as he inched slowly away from the teetering man. He looked... mostly stable. Stable enough that Desmond could retrieve his helmet anyways.

"I thought you said you were going to drive me home," the Brit slurred, looking around for a car in the empty parking lot with some confusion.

"I am. This is it. Right in front of you. Did you miss the introduction just now?" Desmond laughed, walking up to Shaun with the helmet. "This is my pride and joy. Suzuki Hayabusa. Second generation sport bike. It's a 2008, so she's got a couple of years and some good mileage on her but oh man... there's nothing like her. The force of almost 200 horsepower between your thighs..." Desmond ran a hand along the siding of the bike fondly, fingers grazing over the Japanese character for 'peregrine falcon' emblazoned in crimson paint along the side of it.

He looked up to see that Shaun was looking at him like he'd lost his mind. When Desmond approached him with the helmet, he held up his hands like Desmond was holding a knife or a poisonous snake and stumbled backwards. Desmond had fast reflexes though and he jumped forwards, grabbing Shaun's arm to keep him from falling on his ass. "Easy cowboy..."

"No bloody way am I getting on that motorcycle with _you_," he said, words sort of meshing together with his slurred speech.

"You don't have a choice in the matter," Desmond murmured back, grinning mischievously again. The idea of getting Shaun out of his comfort zone was definitely an appealing one. He had a feeling the T.A. spent too much time in that box. He pulled off Shaun's glasses and thumped the helmet on his head before pulling up the visor and placing the glasses back on his nose with a grin, "Perfect."

"What about you? Where's your helmet?" Shaun asked, voice coming out slightly muffled by the padding of the helmet.

"You're wearing it. I only have the one. Never had need for a spare. Don't often have a second passenger. It'll be fine. Besides, your brain is more valuable than mine anyways..." he teased, grabbing Shaun's hand and pulling him over towards the bike as Shaun followed behind him reluctantly. Desmond straddled the bike and held out a hand for Shaun to help him on behind him. "Feet go there," Desmond said, positioning Shaun's legs as he twisted around to get the man settled and comfortable, "And you can hold on there or you can hold on to me. All set?"

"I think I'm going to be sick..." Shaun murmured, stubbornly holding on to the other hand holds and not Desmond. Desmond could swear a blush was colouring the Brit's cheeks under the helmet. A-fucking-dorable. Finally had Desmond between his legs and now he was blushing. Under all that bravado he suspected Shaun was really insecure when it came to the romantic aspects of life.

"Where do you live anyways?" Desmond asked as he kicked the bike to get it going, looking back over his shoulder at Shaun who had jumped at the loud noise of the motorcycle starting and wrapped his arms hastily (and quite snuggly) around Desmond.

"Four story walk up across from the Washington Square Campus. Just get us there alive and I'll give you more instructions..." Shaun murmured in to Desmond's shoulder, words still slurring together nicely. He sounded scared out of his mind and Desmond couldn't help but chuckle as he pulled his legs up and sped off, feeling Shaun's arms tighten around him.

Desmond made his way as effortlessly as always through the city; taking a couple well known short cuts, maybe driving a little faster than usual to get a rise out of Shaun. He actually wished that maybe Shaun lived a little further away so the ride would last longer. It was kinda nice having the warmth of Shaun's chest pressed up against his back and kinda cute how tightly his arms were wrapped around him.

"Left. Next street," Shaun instructed, squeezing himself tighter to Desmond as he took the corner. "That one. With the green door."

Desmond pulled his bike in to the side alley and parked it, turning off the engine and getting off. That was the beautiful thing about motorcycles, you didn't need a parking space. Shaun still looked like he might have been in shock over the whole thing so Desmond held his hand out to help him off the bike. If he hadn't Shaun probably would have fallen on his face. As it was, Shaun's foot caught the edge of the bike and he tripped in to Desmond's chest. The Brit straightened up immediately and looked suspiciously at Desmond like he'd tripped him or something.

"Maybe I better walk you up those four flights of stairs. Wouldn't want you falling and breaking your neck now would we?" Desmond said with a laugh as Shaun removed the helmet and ran a hand through his reddish brown hair. The constantly messy state of it was one of the things Desmond liked best actually. It suited the teacher's assistant, it said 'i'm too busy being smart to worry about what my hair looks like' and it looked sexy.

After a few false starts, Desmond thought it was best to just keep Shaun moving. Any time he stood still for too long he seemed to teeter over. Shaun waved a hand at his door, " 's me here," he mumbled as they reached the fourth floor, digging in to his pocket for his keys. He tried to put the key in the lock, but he seemed to be hitting everywhere but the keyhole.

Sighing patiently, Desmond leaned over and put his hand over top of Shaun's to steady it, turning both of their hands to twist the key and opening the door. He wanted to make sure Shaun was at least safe in his apartment and not sleeping in the hallway to be stabbed by a hobo or something. He hadn't realised how close he was or that his hand was still holding Shaun's until said man, very uncoordinatedly, pushed him up against his door frame and started kissing him. It was sloppy because Shaun was very drunk, but there was a hunger under those kisses that made Desmond's knees a little weak. And surprisingly, despite being a geek and despite the drunk sloppiness of it all, Shaun was a pretty good kisser.

Desmond surprised himself by responding and pushing Shaun back against the opposite side of the door frame, lips attacking Shaun's with just as much hunger. It had been a couple weeks since he'd been with anyone and he kinda liked Shaun. One of Desmond's hands slid down Shaun's side to rest against his hip as his thigh rubbed up between Shaun's legs. The responsive groan that came from Shaun was swallowed by Desmond's searching mouth.

He could think of about a million things he wanted to do to Shaun right now and with the way they were making out and groping each other in his doorway, he could tell that Shaun could think of a few too. They finally paused for a moment to breathe and Shaun nodded towards the inside of his apartment, "We could... move this inside my flat?"

Desmond looked in to the apartment and bit his lip as he turned to look at Shaun again. He wanted to. God, did he ever want to... The man was clearly very drunk though and he wouldn't want to take advantage of him or anything. Plus, there was the whole thing of Shaun not seeming like the type who would handle "just a hookup" very well. Sometimes having a conscience was just about the worst thing a person could have. Sighing heavily, Desmond shook his head at last, hands sliding of their own accord up and down Shaun's sides slowly. "I want to. I like you Shaun, despite all the bickering which really I like to think of as cute bantering more than anything..."

"But-" Shaun started for him, eyes lowering to the floor with the fear of rejection. And that was what hurt the most. Seeing that face right there. Clearly Shaun's emotions became far less guarded when inebriated because there was no way the Shaun he knew would ever let him see such a moment of weakness. It just about killed Desmond to continue.

"I'm sorry. It's just you've had a lot to drink. It wouldn't be right. Maybe we can talk about it some other time when you come in to the bar okay?" he asked, trying to smooth things over with the guy. When he didn't respond, Desmond leaned in and pressed his lips to Shaun's in a slow, searching kiss that probably would have led to more if he hadn't pulled himself out of it after a few moments. While Shaun was occupied by the kiss, Desmond took a fifty from the wad of cash he had in his pocket from his tips and slipped it in to Shaun's pocket. He didn't feel right about it then and he didn't want Shaun's money anyways. "Look, I like you," he repeated, wanting to drive that point home, "It's just... not a good idea tonight. Alright? Get some sleep Shaun. I'll see you at the bar."

"Maybe you're right," Shaun muttered finally, giving Desmond the slightest hint at a smile. A smile from Shaun was about as rare as a rainbow and he wondered if he'd ever catch a glimpse at a real, genuine one. "Night then."

Desmond stepped out of the doorway with a smile and waited for Shaun to close the door and for the click of the lock before he made his way back downstairs. Stepping out of the building, he leaned back against the brick wall in the alley beside his bike and sighed heavily. This was so inconvenient. And such a bad idea. What happened to no attachments Miles? Just once he wanted to be selfish and do something just for him, consequences be damned. He supposed it was his own fault for getting Shaun that drunk, but if he hadn't gotten him drunk would he have even driven him home? Doubtful. Shaun liked to keep his distance usually. The world worked in fucked up ways sometimes. Desmond got back on his bike and put his helmet on feeling really tired all of a sudden. This situation was one he was going to have to think about when his mind was clear and he didn't still have the feel of Shaun's lips on his mind.

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><p>Poor stupid boys. XD Please read and review! Comments make the world go 'round.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

This one has had a bit of a slow start for reviews and comments but I appreciate all the ones I've gotten so far :) If you're reading, drop me a review please! I'd love to hear what you think about everything.

Sorry for the long wait I've been having difficulties wanting to get out what i want to get out, if you know what I mean... ha ha Hopefully you all enjoy the chapter. It's kind of a transition chapter, so not terribly exciting but we get to see a few more familiar faces :D

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><p>As Desmond pulled away on his motorcycle, two hooded figures stepped out of the shadows on a building across the street. One wore a white hooded sweatshirt, lined and stitched with red and the other one a black leather coat, with a white dress shirt and a dark gray hooded sweater underneath (1). The one in black watched the boy drive away, lips a thin line of disapproval, eyes covered in shadow from the hood pulled up. The one in white was biting his lip a little, almost nervously as he looked across the street towards Shaun's apartment. They'd seen the whole exchange through Shaun's window, a perfect view of his doorway. And their little grope session.<p>

"Perhaps all that he needed was a bit of a break to be wild and reckless. If we talk to him maybe he'll come back willingly. You know how stubborn Desmond can be..." an Italian accent came from beneath the white hood.

The man in the black hood however was using a thick cable between the two buildings to cross over to Shaun's building already, walking carefully and quietly he barely made any noise. He was like a shadow with his movements. He heard a sigh from behind him and the Italian shortly followed.

"Altair... maybe he doesn't know anything. Desmond's not that stupid. He would not have discussed the order. Harming him does not seem necessary," Ezio whispered hurriedly when he noticed that Altair was beginning to climb down the fire escape to Shaun's apartment. The dark assassin perched on the railing, looking in to the window and taking in the situation. The Englishman was sprawled on his bed like he'd just fallen on to it, glasses askew and mouth slightly open as he slept heavily.

Altair continued his silence as his hidden blade flicked out and he used it to open the lock on the window. He slid it quietly open and made a hand gesture at Ezio that indicated that he was to stay there and keep watch. Ezio chewed on the inside of his cheek nervously as he watched Altair slip quietly in to the apartment. He didn't agree with this. If they killed this guy it would just push Desmond farther away and Ezio wanted the young assassin safely back among their ranks.

He'd always really liked Desmond, the guy reminding him a bit of himself. Ezio was sort of like his mentor at the compound and he'd taken it pretty hard when the kid had run away at the age of sixteen. He looked at him now, a strong twenty five year old man, looking after himself and successfully evading both them and the Templars for years. And evading Altair was no easy feat. The only reason they'd caught up with him this time was that Desmond had stayed here a little too long. He'd gotten sloppy. Ezio suspected the reason he had stayed so long was sleeping on that bed over there.

Altair went up to the bed and studied the man impassively for a moment while Ezio held his breath. _Do not do this, friend. Do not do this_, he thought silently. Desmond would never forgive them for this, even if they thought it was in the best interest of the order. Much to Ezio's surprise, Altair walked away from a still sleeping Shaun. He wandered around the apartment, looking through Shaun's papers and books, making sure not to ruffle them too much out of place. His eyes landed on Shaun's book bag on the floor and he walked silently over to it, opening it and searching the contents.

The master assassin pulled out the book Shaun had been reading earlier and frowned the more he flipped through the pages. Golden eyes flashed over once more to the unconscious Englishman and then back to the book. He straightened up and put the book in a pocket on the inside of his sweater. One last suspicious look at the man was cast his way before he slipped back out the window and closed it silently, motioning up to the roof.

"I thought you were going to kill him. Truly. You had that expression on your face. I have seen it before. What persuaded you to spare him?" Ezio asked curiously as he sat on a crate that was on top of the roof.

"He was blue," Altair said simply in reply, but his expression was confused. "He was blue but he had this. Notes. On both orders. He is studying us. I should kill him, judging by this he already knows too much..."

"No!" Ezio said quickly, holding his hands up, "Please don't. Talk to Desmond first. Please. Before you do anything..." Begging was not something that was in Ezio's day-to-day but he truly believed that they would lose Desmond permanently over this and that was something he would fight to avoid.

Altair frowned, as was his way, "The order dictates..."

"Cazzo! Listen to me! We will lose him permanently if you do this... _Permanently_. I know him. He will not understand, my old friend. Please. Reconsider," Ezio continued, placing his hand on Altair's shoulder and squeezing slightly. "What if it was Malik in there... would you not want someone to talk to you first?"

Altair stood with a growl and smacked Ezio's hand away. It happened so fast that Ezio didn't even know what happened and Ezio's reflexes were pretty damn fast. Holding on to the front of Ezio's hoodie, Altair dangled him over the edge of the building, Ezio's feet were planted on the roof but slipping slowly as he was held out over the edge. Altair's words were deliberate and dangerous, "Don't. Talk. About. Him."

"Merda! Altair! Are you insane? Stop this madness!" Ezio growled back at him, eyes narrowing in anger that the master assassin would dare do such a thing to his equal. Although, in retrospect, it was probably a foolish thing to say given Malik's condition at the moment. "I apologize, alright? I should never have said anything."

After what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes, Altair pulled him back up and hurled him on to the gravel of the rooftop, "Do not compare what I share with Malik to some drunken make out in a dirty hallway. You will never understand what we have. Had," he corrected, hood obscuring the look on his face but the lips that were still visible sported a distressed expression.

"Altair..." Ezio coughed a little, still winded from the throw, but the assassin was already gone. He shouldn't have said anything. 'Totally out of line' crossed his mind and he sighed heavily.

The master assassin had only recently gotten back from a mission in Jerusalem that had gone... badly. That was an understatement. Altair and Malik being senior assassins (and partners) had gone on the mission with Malik's younger brother, Kadar, who was still a novice. It was only supposed to be a simple retrieval operation but the Templars had been expecting them. Altair was overconfident and the result was Malik getting shot by a shotgun several times in the arm and Kadar bleeding out before they could get back to the safe-house. Malik was still unconscious but the doctors had had to take his arm. The damage was too extensive. Altair was devastated to say the least and Ezio knew he was worried about Malik's reaction along with grieving for Kadar himself.

That's it. Enough of this stalking Desmond business. Ezio was a master assassin too and he didn't need Altair's permission to approach their target. Especially considering who that target was. He ran along the rooftops to clear his head, making his way across to Desmond's apartment building. Landing with a thump on the rooftop, he made his way down the fire escape to Desmond's window and looked in. The kid was sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Hardly very dignified, but he supposed Desmond thought it was better than buying a bed frame he was just going to have to leave behind anyways.

Inhaling a big breath, Ezio knocked on the window. Desmond sat bold upright immediately and looked around to see Ezio sitting in the window, motioning to the lock. He knew that Desmond knew Ezio could easily open that window, but that he was more asking for permission to come in. He didn't miss the dark expression that crossed Desmond's face either as he crossed and unlatched the window, sliding it up and allowing Ezio to climb in.

"Guess it was only a matter of time..." Desmond murmured, slumping back down on to the mattress and crossing his arms over his chest.

Ezio grabbed the only chair in the room and sat down, looking at Desmond seriously, "We've been on to you for the last two weeks Des. Look amico mio, I am here about your friend Shaun."

Desmond's eyes widened and he looked at Ezio desperately, immediately jumping to the worst possible conclusion (in this case not far from the truth); "I didn't tell him anything. He doesn't know. You guys can't do this! I'll leave with you okay? Quietly. Just leave Shaun out of this. Please. It's not his fault. He thinks I'm just a bartender." Words tumbled out of him in rapid succession and Ezio felt a little sorry for the poor bastard.

When Desmond had finally paused to take a breath, Ezio gave him a bit of a sad smile, "I have no way of knowing if he knows about you or not Des, but he knows about the order. Altair has-"

"Altair's on this?" Desmond exclaimed, voice suddenly panicked as he jumped up and grabbed his helmet, "I have to get to Shaun first!"

Ezio intercepted him and grabbed his arm, pulling him back down, "He already had the opportunity and your prince charming is still alive and well. Relax, my friend. Well... relax might not be the best word, but do not panic either. Look... there is a... loophole," he said quietly, as if Altair was going to bust in there any second. Desmond looked at him expectantly and Ezio continued hesitantly, "Convince Al Mualim to put him in the order and they will not have to kill him. I do not see any other way."

Desmond's hand came over his eyes and he held his head like he had a headache, "It's bad enough that I was forced in to this through birth but I don't want to screw up his life too. Just because he kissed me."

Standing up Ezio crossed to Desmond and putting both of his hands on his shoulders, shook him firmly, "If you want him to live, you will do what I tell you idiota. And I suggest doing it fast. Before Altair changes his mind. You know what he is like."

"Fine. Just tell him to keep his distance and I'll take care of it," Desmond grumbled, putting his helmet back and deciding it could wait until morning. No point in waking up Shaun just yet if Altair wasn't after him. Well right at this second anyways.

"How do you live in this _cesso_?" Ezio asked, toeing at a pile of clothes that was lying in the corner.

Sitting back down on the mattress, Desmond shook his head at his Italian mentor, "It _isn't_ a shithole, Ezio. It's inconspicuous..." he chuckled, smoothing a hand through his short bristly hair. "Besides it's expensive having to hide from you guys. I can't afford to stay at the fucking Hilton in every town I go to."

Smirking at the fact that Desmond hadn't lost his sense of humour, Ezio pointed out the window, "Come back to the safe house with me. The beds are more comfortable. I promise we won't tie you up or anything and drag you back to Virginia."

Desmond considered it for a moment and then nodded, "Fine. I need to talk to Altair anyways... Make sure he understands that Shaun isn't a threat and that he's off-limits."

Ezio seemed pleased with this arrangement and climbed out the window as Desmond pulled on some clothes and followed him. Desmond had been working on his free running skills because he could keep up just as well with Ezio now. Turning towards his companion, Ezio tried to put Desmond's mind at ease, "He will not act until he gets an order. He only ever does what Al Mualim tells him... Altair is a good little pet."

Desmond scoffed at this though and shook his head, "You don't think Altair will mention this to Al Mualim in his report and you don't think he'll give him permission right away? Please... I might have been away from the order for awhile but I know how they operate. Al Mualim doesn't care if Shaun's innocent... he knows about us and that's enough to kill him in his eyes. And Altair doesn't care either."

"Go easy on him amico mio," Ezio said softly as they walked along another rooftop, "Kadar is dead. And Malik... is not faring so well. Altair feels responsible and he is especially volatile right now. So just... go easy on him. He might act like he is heartless but he is not made of steel and he is hurting right now even if he will not admit it."

Skidding to a halt on the rooftop, Desmond looked as though someone had punched him in the gut, "Kadar is dead?" he asked quietly, looking away when Ezio just nodded silently. Kadar was around his age and used to train with Desmond a lot. To think that someone he'd grown up with and been friends with was dead "for the cause" without his knowledge made him really upset. He felt nauseous suddenly. Malik had gotten injured too? He'd always really appreciated and respected the assassin's stoic and mature nature, even when they were younger. Malik looked like the perfect example of what an assassin should be next to Altair's over-confident, but skillful, nature as well as Ezio's joking, but equally skilled, disposition.

"Altair must be devastated, but I doubt he's showing that outwardly. Probably acting like he doesn't care right?" the younger of the two asked as he started free running beside Ezio again. Even before he'd left he'd known what was going on between Altair and Malik. They were kind of terrible at hiding it, plus you can only walk in on a couple making out so many times before you stop assuming that they simply tripped and fell on each other with their lips open and their eyes closed. And Kadar, he'd been like a little brother to Altair. The always indifferent assassin was probably acting like it was just another death in the field but he knew that, at the very least, he and Ezio knew better.

"He is completely unbearable," Ezio admitted as he slowed and motioned Desmond to follow him to the door on the roof of what looked like an abandoned factory. It was all very inconspicuous, except for the carefully hidden cameras and likely microphones and god knows what else. Desmond sighed, welcome home.

"So the usual then," the bartender joked as they opened the door with a pass code and paused in front of a sealed elevator. Ezio moved to put his hand over the scanner and nodded for Desmond to do the same on the other side. A flash of light ran along his palm before the screen glowed green and a pleasant male computerized voice greeted them, "Welcome back Asset Auditore, Miles..." It greeted them in turn. Asset. How personal. They really were just agents and pawns in a war between secret organizations.

Desmond stepped in to the elevator and they went down, much further down than any basement the factory might have had. It was precautionary to put the safe-house deep under ground unless the Templars got any bright ideas of blowing up the safe house should they find out its location. They exited the elevator and walked through a lobby area past a pleasant looking woman who informed Ezio that Altair had not returned yet. She looked at Desmond curiously but before an introduction could be made they kept walking. They walked through what looked like a mix between the labs and office areas at Abstergo to a set of stairs that went down to what was the living quarters for the assassins of this particular safe house.

A couple people were relaxing in front of a flat screen, watching a movie and looking for the better part like completely normal human beings. Aside from the fact that they knew how to kill you about 100 different ways without even getting creative. Desmond was following Ezio wordlessly until he saw a certain blond haired girl, sitting on the couch beside a brunette with shaggy hair and headphones around her neck. "Lucy! You're one of _them_?" Desmond asked incredulously.

"One of _us_ Desmond," the brunette corrected him, interrupting Lucy with a bit of a sly smile as she reached over the back of the couch to shake his hand, "I'm Rebecca. Heard a lot about you. So the prodigal son has returned at last... I see they didn't have to resort to restraints." Her joking nature put a bit of a smile on his face despite the feeling of betrayal he was feeling.

"Someone had to keep an eye on you. And I have a feeling you would have recognized our master assassins pretty much right away, wouldn't you?" the blond assassin laughed, shrugging a shoulder at the still shocked look on Desmond's face. "I saw the report on Shaun. I'm sorry Desmond. I feel a little responsible pushing you two together so close to when they were going to bring you back in. I just thought you could have gotten laid one last time before your 'home coming', you know?" No secrets within a secret organization apparently. Ironic.

"Yeah well... thanks a lot. Either way his life is over. Altair kills him or he gets forced in to assassin servitude. How the hell do I explain that to him?" Desmond said bitterly, slumping down on the opposite couch beside Lucy.

She put an arm around his shoulders and patted his arm, "Better down here with us than up there with them. And I mean... you would be here too. I don't think Shaun would be complaining too much about that..."

"Until I get reassigned... or put in solitary confinement. Or something," he grumbled as Ezio sat down beside Rebecca since it seemed they weren't going anywhere for a moment.

Rebecca laughed at him and shook her head, "You make it sound like a prison. It's not so bad down here. They have these special UV lights and fake windows so that we don't go stir crazy or whatever... It's almost as good as real sunshine. We even go out once and awhile for fresh air!"

"Sarcasm is not a very endearing trait in a woman, Rebecca," Ezio chided.

"Never been much of a lady signore," she teased right back, causing Ezio ad Lucy to chuckle a little.

"Well this is really charming, but I'm fucking tired and this is giving me a headache..." Getting up from his seat, Desmond let Ezio show him to a room that would probably become his. He heard Lucy mutter something about the fact that he had been spending too much time with Shaun and his attitude was starting to rub off on him. The talk of Shaun made him feel sick and he decided to just sleep on the whole thing and reconsider it in the morning.

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><p>(1) My lame attempt to modernize Altair's armor. I always loved Altair's armor from the second game that you can unlock. I use it in ACB too because it just looks so bad ass.<p>

Hope the chapter sounded alright, I did less editing than I would have liked but I was really eager just to post something. I have the next chapter written too! But that one I haven't even started editing so hopefully I'll get that up in the next day or two.

Please read and review! I love to hear what you guys think about it! Happy Monday!


	4. Chapter 4

Been working just about every day this week and last week to cover rent and other things before I leave on my trip. Being a responsible adult is so overrated. XD So I apologize for the wait for those of you who were waiting for an update. I'm sort of blocked on my other story right now (DA centric) but this one still seems to be speaking to me. For those who are reading both my stories, don't fret! I'm not dropping it or anything, we're just on a break.

Thank you once again to every one who read and reviewed. I think I replied to everyone who reviewed (if I missed you I'm sorry!). I usually try to reply to all my reviewers because I know I always like hearing from the authors of my favourite fan fics :) Anywho... on with the story. More familiar faces and a bit of a cliff hanger ending. I couldn't resist. I'm sorry, don't hate me XD Enjoy (hopefully)!

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><p>To say Desmond slept poorly was an understatement but the way in which he was awoken was even worse. He jumped about a foot in the air when he realized that he was no longer alone in his room anymore. Despite Desmond's just about jumping out of his skin, Altair didn't move a muscle. Just looked indifferent as always as he sat in a chair across the room.<p>

"Fuck! What the hell is wrong with you?" Desmond shouted at the always hooded assassin, hand covering his chest to feel his rapidly beating heart as if he were trying to slow it down.

The master assassin simply shrugged a shoulder and leaned on his knees, folding his arms across them; "Good. You're awake... at last. Al Mualim wanted to speak with you as soon as you were up. I have been... considering your situation."

Desmond snorted out a breath of disbelief and rolled his eyes, "Like you care about anything other than kissing Al Mualim's ass. Or Malik's."

He thought for a moment Altair's jaw might snap the tension in it could be seen (and felt) across the room. It showed how much progress Altair had made in maturity that he hadn't simply lunged across the room to throttle Desmond right in that instant for daring to speak to a master assassin in such a way. Instead he cleared his throat and pressed on like Desmond hadn't said anything, "Ezio seems to believe that your attachment to this... Shaun Hastings is genuine. I am not very adept at coming up with plans-"

"Did I just hear the great Altair Ibn-La'Ahad admit to _not_ being the best at something. I might well die of shock..." he interrupted, laughing a little at the stunned assassin's reaction. He was pressing his luck and he knew it. However, Desmond was lacking in sleep and he was irritable about being recaptured, so upsetting an assassin that was known for his short temper was probably stupid but unavoidable at this point.

Altair's teeth were gritted in a true test of patience when he finally spoke, "I just thought you might like to talk to Malik. He is awake... and he has always been good with plans..." His voice softened at the end and a hint of a smile turned up the corner of Altair's lips when he spoke of Malik's intelligence. Altair didn't care for much but it had always been clear to Desmond that he cared about Malik more than anything or anyone.

"I'm sorry. I'm tired," the bartender said after a moment in an apologetic tone. He was being selfish when Altair was trying to help him of all things. Yawning and stretching he got out of bed and followed as Altair got up silently and led him out of the living quarters. They walked down a few passageways until they got to what looked like a small hospital. Just how big was this underground assassin base anyways? It was clear Altair had taken this route many times before because he walked it without hesitation, taking the corners easily. However, he did hesitate outside a hospital room door and motioned inside instead of leading the way for once. Desmond looked at him strangely, "You're not coming in?"

Altair shuffled his feet awkwardly, "Um... I do not think that is wise. You should go in and talk to Malik. He will be happy to see you again. He always liked you... for some reason."

"Thanks asshole," Desmond laughed a little as he walked by the awkward looking hooded assassin and in to the room. Malik was lying in bed, arm bandaged heavily and looking... tired. "Mal. Been awhile. You've looked better."

Malik smiled a little and motioned to a chair beside him, "Sit. Sit... It's good to see you again." And then after a moment, "Is that stupid novice ever going to come visit me when I'm actually awake?"

It took Desmond a moment for him to realize who he was talking about, "Altair? He's in the hall. Should I get him?"

"No. I don't trust myself not to kill him," he paused for a moment before smirking a little at Desmond, "Since he only visits while I sleep, out of guilt I suspect, I sometimes pretend to be sleeping. That idiot apparently can not tell the difference between when I'm sleeping and faking which is disappointing after all the years we've spent together."

"You're both stubborn as hell..." Desmond laughed, looking out in the hallway to see that Altair had indeed disappeared again.

It took over an hour for Desmond and Malik to discuss the situation, but Malik was quick as ever to come up with a solution. And while it didn't sound ideal to Desmond for Shaun... it was worth talking over. Or at least with Al Mualim. It would give him some semblance of a normal life for a little while anyways. He finally nodded his agreement and put his hand out for Malik to shake which he did with a strong grip.

"Thanks Mal. I owe you... I hope the geezer goes for this. Either that or I might be attempting another escape sooner than I had planned," Desmond joked as he walked towards the exit.

"No problem Des. Good to have you back. I wish..." Malik paused for a moment, taking a steadying breath, "Kadar would have been happy to see you back among us. I am happy you have returned to us, even if it was not your plan. Good luck with Al Mualim. Make him see reason... I think I will sleep for awhile, I am tired." Malik exchanged a bit of a knowing look with Desmond and they both chuckled a little as Malik settled a little more comfortably in to the pillows.

"Later Mal. I'll come back and see you once I deal with this..." Ezio was waiting for Desmond outside with the instructions that Al Mualim wanted to speak to him immediately and had been looking for him all morning. He sighed and followed along beside the Italian, "Let's get this over with..."

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><p>After Desmond left, Malik closed his eyes and pretended to be sleeping; he knew it was only a matter of time before Altair showed up. He was furious with Altair still, but... he couldn't deny that he still loved the bastard. He'd had weeks to come to terms with the loss of his brother and his arm. It wasn't any easier to think about it but... he'd come to realize it wasn't completely Altair's fault either. Now if Altair had called Robert and told him to appear at that exact location at that exact time then he would have considered torturing him slowly, healing him and then torturing him some more before his eventual murder. As it was, Altair had visited him every day. Not while Malik was awake mind you, but every day none the less. The nurse had told him so. It had been explained to him that Altair asked about his condition every day and made sure they were taking good care of him. She had also told him of all the visits he had paid and that while Malik was unconscious he'd refused to leave his side. Surely that kind of dedication couldn't be so easily thrown away over a grudge.<p>

It only took 20 minutes after Desmond's departure for Altair to show up. He heard the low voice in the hall ask if Malik was awake and then the nurse peeked in and predictably said Malik was sleeping. He barely heard the soft footsteps as the other assassin entered the room. Altair had always been freakishly quiet for a man of his size. He heard him approaching the bed and it was hard to remain still when Malik had the overwhelming urge to punch the man in the face... and then kiss him until their lips bruised.

The bed sank a little as Altair sat beside him and Malik tried to keep his breathing even to appear asleep. He felt fingers brush lightly through his hair and down his cheek and while he longed to move his head in to that touch, he resisted so that he could still appear to be sleeping.

He felt Altair's hand wrap around his and then his arm being raised slightly as Altair brought his hand up to his lips to kiss the palm of his hand. A sigh escaped Altair's lips and he put Malik's hand back down before getting up to leave, only this time Malik reached out and grabbed that hand back for his own. Altair tensed in this trapped position and turned back to look at Malik only to see his eyes now open. "I was... um..." the great assassin fumbled over his words, unsure of what to say.

"Shut up idiot novice and sit down," Malik said a little more harshly than he intended, causing Altair to flinch. He did as he was instructed though and sat down beside Malik on the bed, hand still firmly clasped in Malik's since he had not let go of it in fear that Altair would try and run away. "Why do you insist on only seeing me while I sleep? Have you not the courage to face me after what happened?"

The adam's apple of Altair' throat bobbed as he swallowed hard and he looked away, "I... I have not the words to explain myself. To you. Or Kadar. I am sorry does not really seem to be adequate..." The usually proud and arrogant assassin's voice trailed off and he chewed nervously on his lower lip. Altair was never nervous. Except of course when it came to Malik.

"It's not," Malik agreed, hand holding Altair's less like a death grip and now holding it more just because he wanted to. "I have done a lot of thinking while I've been lying here and I've been furious with you these past weeks... but... despite all of that... We cannot change what happened on that day, but we can look out for each other and make sure it doesn't happen again." Surprise didn't even begin to cover the look that crossed Altair's face at those words. It was clear that he hadn't even entertained the faintest glimmer of hope that Malik would forgive him for such a thing, despite their feelings for each other before the accident. "You can start making it up to me by showing up when I'm awake. Or getting me out of here for that matter..."

"Malik, I'm sure the doctors know-"

"They're all idiots," Malik interrupted, frowning a little, "They'll keep me in this bed forever. I'm fine to move around on my own. My arm will take time to heal, yes... but I do not need to be bed-ridden like some sort of invalid. My legs still function perfectly fine."

Despite the situation, Altair couldn't help but smile a little at the fierceness Malik still displayed. It was comforting to know that some things hadn't changed even if it felt like their whole lives had. Altair brought Malik's hand back up to his lips and kissed the palm softly again as he watched Malik over the top of their joined hands, "You were awake the whole time, weren't you? Every visit I made here..."

"You always were a stupid novice," Malik countered with, a smile trying to make itself known on his features despite his fighting to remain totally straight faced in front of Altair.

"I'll talk to the doctors for you," he finally agreed, if only because he wanted to look after Malik himself and make it up to him in any way he could. He got up to go find Malik's doctor but before he did he leaned in and pressed his lips to Malik's in a long, slow kiss that got deeper the longer it went on. When Altair finally pulled back they were both breathing a little heavier and looking at each other with half-lidded lustful eyes. "Soon..." Altair told him with a bit of a smirk before disappearing out of the room.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Desmond had arrived in the wing of the underground base that was reserved for Al Mualim alone. It felt sterile and unlived in even though it was his personal quarters. Something about it just made Desmond feel uncomfortable, as though he were still in the hospital wing. He continued to follow Ezio until he arrived in Al Mualim's study. The old grand master of the order was hunched over a map of the world with various coloured pins stuck in it. He didn't even look up as Desmond and Ezio walked in.<p>

"Desmond, nice of you to grace us with your presence after all of these years. I hear you came home without too much struggle this time," Al Mualim said as he stuck a green pin somewhere in the middle of North Africa.

Desmond tapped his finger on his chin like he was thinking for a moment, "Home... home... no, definitely didn't come "home". Haven't had a home since I was five. Kidnapping seems more accurate than homecoming." Ezio gaped at Desmond that he would dare speak to the grand master like that and slapped him over the back of the head. "Ow! What the fuck?" Desmond protested, rubbing the back of his abused head.

"It's alright Ezio," Al Mualim told him, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture, "You can go. So Desmond, Altair tells me that there is a... complication to your returning to our ranks. A boy. Who knows entirely too much about our order. You know the rules Desmond. We cannot allow civilians with knowledge of our order to live. It would compromise us to our enemies. They are not trained to withstand torture as we do; he could easily divulge secrets of our order to the Templars. I cannot allow this. I will send Altair to-"

"Wait!" Desmond protested. "I have a plan..."

It was then that he noticed the notebook Shaun always carried with him sitting on the corner of Al Mualim's desk. The very same book he had tucked in to Shaun' book bag the night prior when he had been so drunk. Which meant someone had been in Shaun's apartment last night to retrieve it and likely standing right next to him. Desmond felt sick knowing how close Shaun had come to death. What if he'd woken up and put up a fight? What if Altair had just killed him? Since he was sure now that it was Altair that had been there. As if he could read Desmond's mind, Al Mualim spoke up, "Your... "friend" yet lives. How much longer he lives is the topic of discussion at the moment. Altair claims he is an ally and that I should trust his judgement." The grand master scoffed as if trusting Altair's judgement would ever be wise. Desmond supposed Al Mualim didn't like the idea of his best killer pet thinking too much about anything. "I admit some of the research this Shaun Hastings has uncovered is helpful to my own..."

"Exactly!" Desmond latched on to the opportunity to pitch his idea, "He's extremely smart. One of the smartest people I know. And he loves doing research. Since he's done so much of it on our order already I get the impression that it would be easy to turn him to our cause. He could join the other analysts and would probably be one of our top researchers. But before we bring him on... I thought we could use him, and myself for that matter, as bait for the Templars. If Ezio was telling the truth that you guys were on to me for several weeks... I imagine the Templars aren't far behind in finding me and they probably already know about Shaun too. You already have Lucy in place to watch me at the bar and all we would have to do would be to assign someone to watch Shaun. When the Templars come calling, we're already ready for them. We capture, interrogate them and extract information... You have to admit the opportunity to catch some of those bastards is tempting. Once the trap has gone off, Shaun and I come back in to the ranks." In the meantime, Desmond and Shaun would get to live normal lives just a little bit longer and maybe Desmond would be able to explain to Shaun how sorry he was for completely ruining his life. Or maybe they could just run together. He hadn't really decided yet.

Al Mualim was quiet for what seemed like a long time, "Very well Desmond. We will try this plan of yours. I will assign Kadar to Shaun... You may go."

"Oka- wait what? Kadar's still alive?" the hooded bartender stared at Al Mualim in shock, "Malik said he bled out... He thinks... You have to tell Malik. Altair. They need to know tha-"

"I will tell them when I see fit. Ezio will see you to your "job"... You're dismissed," his tone was low in warning that Desmond was overstepping his boundaries.

"But you have to tell them!" Desmond growled, furious that Al Mualim was keeping this from them. It was killing Malik to think Kadar was dead and it was hurting his relationship with Altair. "You can't keep this from them!"

"I said you were dismissed Mr. Miles. If you want your Mr. Hastings to keep his life you will leave this office. Now." Al Mualim shot back, giving the bartender a look that could level a city block.

Desmond gave Al Mualim a look that said this wasn't over and finally left reluctantly. He couldn't put Shaun's life at stake any more than it already was. Ezio was waiting for him down the hall and he followed along beside him. "I need to speak to Altair. Right now."

Ezio bit his lip, "I was told to take you to work and that you weren't allowed to talk to anyone."

"Ezio! Now! It's important!" Desmond shouted at him and finally Ezio sighed and nodded. Desmond smiled a bit. He knew he could count on Ezio to rebel a little against Al Mualim's rules.

"Last I checked he was in Malik's hospital room. We can probably find him there..." the Italian offered up, jogging down the hall towards the hospital wing with Desmond right along beside him.

They got to where they were supposed to be and froze in the doorway when they saw the nurse stripping the sheets down from the bed. They were gone. But where?

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><p>Kadar lives! Shock of shocks, I know XD A reviewer brought up the fact that they appreciated my sticking close to the injuriesdeaths sustained in Soloman's Temple and it was so very, very hard not to mention that I planned on bringing Kadar back ha ha I hope you don't mind, dear reader.

Oh Al Mualim. You crafty bastard. I was always suspicious of him. Mind you, I'm suspicious of just about every one in video games. Had the rug pulled out from under me too many times in games, so now everyone is a suspect!

Anyways, please read and review because it truly makes my day to hear from you all :)


	5. Chapter 5

I know it's been a really long time since I've posted and I apologize. I've been really blocked lately and yeah... but finally some semblance of a chapter has materialized and now I can post it for your reading pleasure :D

More Alty and Mal in this chapter because I heart them so XD Also introducing an OC who is pretty minor now but will have a bigger role later. Perhaps. I don't know for sure actually... haven't decided 100% on that story line yet. So we'll see. In ANY case... here is chapter the fifth :)

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><p>Malik sat in an armchair in Altair's room and smiled a little at the fact that he was finally out of that damn depressing hospital room. He didn't know how Altair had arranged it, perhaps on pain of death, but he didn't really care. He was out of there. Altair had told him to wait for him in his room while he grabbed a few of Malik's things from his room. He insisted on Malik staying with him until he was feeling one hundred percent so that he could look after him. Sort of like having his own personal slave that he could guilt in to pretty much anything. Malik was looking forward to having Altair do whatever he wanted. He'd already thought of a couple interesting things. Okay, a lot of interesting things. Considering how stubborn the great eagle was, having a chance to order him around seemed too rich an opportunity to pass up.<p>

Even so, the one armed assassin was a little surprised by the gesture of sharing a room. Altair had always been very solitary, close as he was to Malik, they'd never shared a space for any longer than it took for them to satisfy each other. They'd never been so open about their relationship before either. Always keeping separate rooms, never any PDAs, nothing to tip off anyone about how they felt about each other. But now it was like appearances be damned. Al Mualim's insistence that everyone have their own room clearly meant very little to Altair right now. Malik smiled a little at the sentimentality of it all... It was a sweet thought, which made him wonder how Altair ever came up with it. Not that Altair couldn't be sweet, but... it wasn't really in his nature.

As he waited for Altair he looked around the room and shook his head. The master assassin had done nothing with his room. There were no personal items or any indication that the room was lived in at all except for the slight indent in the bed where Altair had taken a nap earlier. It looked as sterile and uninviting as the hospital room he'd spent the past couple weeks in with one key difference. It was Altair's. And he was sharing with Malik.

Just then the door opened and Altair stepped in with a duffel bag over his shoulder and an extra pillow. He dropped them both on the bed and rested both his hands on the arm rests of Malik's chair before leaning in and kissing him deeply. Malik was beginning to think that maybe the master assassin had missed him a little.

Malik tilted his chin up in to the kiss and brought his hand up to cup Altair's cheek. Instinctively he tried to bring up his other hand to run through Altair's hair; his shoulder moved, as did his upper arm but he no longer had a hand to run through Altair's hair. The thought occurred to him that he'd never again be able to touch Altair like he wanted to and his chest ached painfully at the realization.

Altair paused in the kiss when he sensed Malik's discomfort and looked down at Malik instead, golden eyes locking with brown ones as he brought a hand up to slide along Malik's cheek, "What's wrong?"

"It's..." Malik paused. He didn't really want to bring it up. It would just make Altair feel guilty and Malik feel worse about the situation. Malik had never been one to complain when he was sick or injured and he saw no reason to start now. "Nothing Altair. Nothing."

"If you're sure..." Altair said slowly, giving him one of those looks that made Malik shiver. It was like those golden eyes were trying to look right through him in to his soul. Sometimes he thought Altair really could do that. Sometimes he thought Altair could do anything.

"Altair I-"

There was a knock on the door that interrupted him and he sighed. A frown crossed the master assassin's face and he opened the door to his room angrily. A lower rank assassin that Al Mualim used more or less as his personal assistant was standing out front, looking terrified at the look on Altair's face. All the other assassins were terrified of the master assassin, which had always amused Malik to some degree. Though he supposed there were very few people Altair was actually nice to. "What do you want? Now is not a good time," Altair growled.

"Um...uh... um..." the man stammered still looking terrified, even more so now that he seemed to have angered Altair.

"Spit it out novice," his voice came out sharp and the guy actually jumped a little like Altair had physically hit him.

"A-Al Mualim wants to speak with you right now. Privately," he said after a moment, looking at the door like he knew Malik was on the other side of it.

Altair's jaw locked tight as he considered what was an obvious dilemma for him. He wanted to spend time with Malik but he could never refuse a direct order from his master. "Tell him I'll be right there," he came up with finally. He shut the door in the novice's face and went back over to Malik. "I'm sorry... I'll be back right after..." His voice was soft, in sharp contrast with the one he had just used to talk to the other assassin and it made Malik smile a bit as Altair leaned in for another slow kiss.

Malik smiled at him, running his hand along Altair's muscular forearm as it rested on the arm of his chair. They were in their thirties now and keeping those muscles defined took just a little bit of extra work, but Altair didn't seem to have any trouble managing. Not that he ever stopped for a minute. Al Mualim always had him running some mission or another. Malik could only imagine Al Mualim's discontent that Altair had refused to leave his bedside for the full week he'd been unconscious after the operation. That must have messed up an awful lot of his plans. Good.

"You were saying something before," Altair prompted him gently.

"It was nothing. You should go. Wouldn't want to make Al Mualim wait..." Malik replied, leaning back in the chair and away from Altair. The tone in his voice was a little more bitter than he had intended and he instantly regretted the slip in emotion. Altair gave him a look that said he was being unfair but for that moment he didn't care if he was being fair or not. "We'll talk when you get back."

"Yes we will," Altair agreed, smoothing a hand through Malik's hair one last time before leaving the room. Malik crossed the room and slumped down on to Altair's bed, nuzzling his cheek in to Altair's pillow and inhaling deeply. It smelled like him and it was relaxing. He knew he would sleep much better here than smelling those sterile hospital sheets every night. He knew he wouldn't be seeing Altair again tonight though. Al Mualim had plans for him no doubt.

He closed his eyes for a moment and next he knew he was waking up to a knock on the door. He looked over at the clock and realized it had been three hours since Altair had left for his meeting with Al Mualim. Yawning a little, Malik got out of bed and went to the door, running a hand through his hair and smoothing it out. He opened it to find the same novice as before. The lower ranked assassin flushed to find Malik in Altair's room, and all that that implied, but he didn't look surprised. Clearly he'd been told to find Malik here. His eyes drifted from Malik's shoulder down to where his arm ended just before the elbow and Malik frowned. Remembering himself after Malik emitted a growl, the novice flushed impossibly deeper and cleared his throat, "Uh... the grand master would like to speak to you."

Malik followed the novice wordlessly to Al Mualim's study. The grand master sat behind his desk leafing through Shaun's notebook with a curious expression. "Malik, I am happy to see you are feeling better..." he drawled, looking up at the injured assassin with a bit of a smile. Malik could see right through the insincerity of it, like he'd always been able to. He took everything Al Mualim said with a grain of salt. Something about the guy had always rubbed him the wrong way. Malik suspected it was mostly the grand master's treatment of Altair like he was his prized golden retriever.

"I'm making do..." Malik said flatly. He wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. Especially now that he would be without Altair's company tonight because of the man sitting across from him.

"I imagine you are. You are so very good at adapting to any situation." And why did that sound so very much like sarcasm to Malik's ears? "Which is why I know you will have no problem adapting to your new position. I'm appointing you as dai of the safe-house in the north of the state. There are a lot of corrupt individuals up there that we are keeping an eye on. I expect the safe-house to see a lot of activity over the next few months and since we recently... lost the dai in residence there, it seems a perfect opportunity for you." Malik must have looked like he was about to argue because Al Mualim held his hand up, "To put it bluntly, I can no longer use you as an assassin. Without your other arm, your skills are... limited. You are perfectly capable of carrying out the duties of a dai however. I think the task is well suited to you. You are knowledgeable in the ways of the order, field medicine and the other assassins respect you. It's perfect."

"Do I even have a say in the matter?" Malik asked, feeling nothing short of mutinous. He couldn't believe this was happening. First his arm, then his brother and now his job? What was next?

"No. You don't," Al Mualim droned, turning back to his book as though he'd lost interest in the conversation. "Viktor will take you to the other safe-house tonight so that you can get accustomed to your new home. You may go and pack your things. Safety and peace brother..."

"Safety and peace," Malik replied through gritted teeth, turning and stalking out of the office. That was gratitude for you. The only assassin to complete the Soloman's Temple quest at the cost of his arm and his brother and they were shipping him off to be forgotten. Unbelievable.

After he'd gone, the novice named Viktor came back in to the study and Al Mualim looked up again, "Yes?"

"Altair left a message. Like you said he would... I did not give it to Malik," Viktor said quietly, walking the length of the room to hand the note to Al Mualim.

Al Mualim unfolded the note and read it swiftly, a cruel smile coming across his face as he laughed at the expense of two of his master assassins. "How sentimental. It's really too bad Malik won't get to read it," as he spoke, he ripped up the letter and threw it in the trash. "Make sure he doesn't leave something similar for Altair. I don't want them to have any more contact than necessary. This... phase in my best student's life needs to end." The distance was sufficient enough for it not to be an easy trip and Al Mualim planned on having Altair far too busy on missions for visits to the beach. He would forget about Malik eventually.

"Yes master," Viktor replied, hand to his chest in a sign of respect as he bowed deeply and left the room. As Viktor closed the door behind him, he brought his hand up to his head like he had a headache. He knew this was what the master was commanding and he would see it through but there was a small part of him that knew that it was wrong. Any time he thought about it too much though his headache got worse and his thoughts instead shifted to other various tasks Al Mualim had for him to do.

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><p>Across town Desmond ran through the back door of the bar and quickly got his ass behind the counter because he was so very, very late. His boss gave him a look that screamed 'we'll talk later' and Desmond sighed heavily as he started taking orders from customers crowded around the bar. He was so late because they had been looking for Altair and Malik. It was like they'd disappeared from the compound. It didn't sit well with Desmond at all that Al Mualim was keeping something that important from the two master assassins. They thought a member of their family was dead and he was just pretending like he forgot to tell them someone called. The nads on that guy...<p>

"You're a piece of work Miles, I'll tell you that... Get a man completely intoxicated, dump him on his doorstep and then disappear in to the night. I had such a bloody hangover this morning that I'm convinced you put something in my drinks," a familiar British voice cut across the yelling voices and Desmond's heart skipped a beat.

He never thought he'd be so relieved to just _see_ someone in his life. And there Shaun was. Alive and breathing. Desmond was so relieved that he abandoned the drink he was making for some guy and walked over to where Shaun was sitting at the end of the bar, grabbed him by the tie and pulled him across the bar so they met half-way in a deep kiss. He was aware that everyone was probably staring at them but he didn't care. He thought Shaun had been murdered several times over the course of the day and he was going to take advantage of the fact that he was not yet dead. When he finally needed to stop and breathe, Desmond pulled back and slowly released Shaun's tie, letting it slip slowly through his fingers.

For once Shaun was speechless and just sort of gaped at him, in total shock that Desmond would make such a public display of their new relationship. Desmond couldn't help but grin at the fact that he could make the Brit so openly off kilter when he tried so very hard to pretend like nothing phased him.

"Does that make up for it a little?" he asked playfully, leaning on the bar in front of Shaun.

"Well..." Shaun started slowly, obviously still trying to recover from the shock of the kiss. "I... It's a start. Perhaps."

The bartender was infintely amused with how embarassed and disheveled Shaun looked at the moment. He ran a hand through his hair and tightened his tie as the bright crimson that tinted his cheeks continued to burn brightly. Desmond suspected Shaun hadn't had the pleasure of many public displays of affection in his life. Something Desmond wanted nothing more than to correct.

His thoughts were interrupted as Ezio sat himself down beside Shaun and motioned for Desmond to make him a drink. To say Desmond was surprised to see him so casually at work was an understatement as this hardly went along with his plan of being subtle and laying in wait for the Templars having assassins sitting at his bar. Now he thought of it though, 'subtle' was never an adjective often used with Ezio Auditore's name.

Desmond poured him a campari and soda as he seemed to remember Ezio ordering something similar once when they were on a mission that had Desmond shadowing him for practice. The italian smiled at the drink in front of him and shot Desmond a grateful smile and a wink, "Gracie..."

"Prego," Desmond responded teasingly. "Shaun this is Ezio by the way. My... cousin."

Ezio's eyebrows shot up in surprise and he laughed at the introduction, holding a hand out for Shaun to shake. "A pleasure to meet you, my friend. Ezio Auditore."

"Auditore?" Shaun repeated, like the name seemed familiar to him. Desmond wondered if he hadn't had a couple notes in that book of his on Ezio as a suspected assassin. He breathed out a sigh of relief when Shaun just continued on, "That's a far cry from the last name Miles. Though I suppose I can see the Italian in you. Cocky attitude and all that..."

"Hey! We are not cocky... we are confident and perfectly charming," Ezio countered with a grin that had several girls across the bar swooning in their seats. Desmond had noticed that Ezio had that effect on people. He knew Al Mualim liked to send him on missions where a... personal touch was needed. Altair may have been the perfect assassin but his people skills were lacking. Ezio, on the other hand, more than made up for it with his personable ways and charisma.

"Yes well... this one's charm still has my brain feeling like it's beating against the side of my skull. I might just stay clear of you "charming" lot for a little while..." the scholar groused, sipping at his drink cautiously as though it might be poisoned or something.

Desmond chuckled as he shook up a martini for another customer sitting close by them, listening to Ezio and Shaun prattle on about nothing in particular. A slightly unkempt looking character sat down in the empty seat beside Shaun; his shaggy blond hair hung in front of his bright blue eyes, a short cropped blond goatee decorating his chin and a crimson beret perched on top of his head. His clothing choices were... odd, but screamed 'i'm an artist and i'm unique'. As if to answer the unspoken question of the man's occupation, he pulled out a sketch pad and placed it on the bar, aimlessly sketching away on some complicated looking design. Already amused by the strange man, Desmond turned to him with a smile, "Can I get you a drink?"

The man looked up with a smile and considered for a moment, "A drink? Yes, well this is a bar... isn't it?" he pointed out unnecessarily with a bit of a laugh, "Just an apple juice please."

"Apple juice..." Desmond repeated like he'd heard wrong, but the odd, blond man had gone back to his sketches. In all the time Desmond had worked there he had to admit that he'd never had anyone order just juice before. They had some for the apple martinis though so he had no trouble finding some and poured a glass for the man before passing it across the bar to him. He turned back to Ezio and Shaun to find Shaun trying to sort of slide away from Ezio. The reason being that Ezio was making out pretty heavily with some girl beside him and they were beginning to encroach on Shaun's space. Desmond couldn't help but snicker at the sight. Ezio certainly didn't waste any time.

"Amusing chap your cousin... smooth talker too, didn't need to whisper more than a line to his new... friend and there you have it. World's greatest love story." The englishman looked a little nauseated by the display and looked over at Desmond pleadingly for help, to which Desmond could only shrug his shoulders. He'd been late to work there was no way they were going to let him leave early. Even if it was with the intent to save Shaun.

The artist had looked up from his drawing long enough to take a sip of his juice and it seemed that Ezio had caught his attention too as he looked over at the Italian assassin curiously before going back to his sketch. Desmond couldn't help but notice how his eyes kept drifting back over to Ezio and the display he was making as if he were memorizing certain features.

"There's a dark alley that could be better used for your purposes instead of my bar you know..." Desmond said loudly enough for Ezio to hear over the bar chatter. He paused long enough to grin impishly at his friend, while the girl he had "befriended" continued to kiss along his neck. He had to admit Ezio never had a lack of attention... when he wanted it of course. He would be a pretty poor assassin if he didn't know how to blend in when he wanted to. Desmond had to admit that Ezio was looking good today though. Instead of the usual hoodie he sported he wore a white dress shirt and black vest, hair tied back to keep it out of his face.

It didn't take long after that for Ezio to leave with the girl he'd met and about an hour before last call the artist left too, leaving Shaun to wait at the bar alone until Desmond was finished. Although, he waited a little more soberly this time. After what seemed like forever, last call finally rolled around and since there weren't that many people left over Lucy let Desmond leave early once more. He was eternally grateful as he wanted to spend as much time with Shaun as possible, in case his plan didn't go as perfectly as he hoped.

"Alright sir... I'm about ready to go. Didn't bring my bike today, so we'll have to cab it but somehow I think you'll be alright with that," Desmond said with a laugh, considering the grief he'd gotten the last time he put Shaun on the back of his motorcycle.

Shaun stood from his chair and stretched his limbs a little with a shrug of his shoulders, "Who says I've been waiting all night for you to take me home? There's a bloke over there who gave me a pretty good offer you know. I think I might take him up on it..."

Stepping right in to Shaun and wrapping an arm around his waist, Desmond brushed his lips along Shaun's but avoided kissing him, "Still thinking about that other offer?" he asked in a low voice, pressing his hips lightly in to Shaun's. The only response from Shaun was a weird noise that came from his throat when he swallowed hard and shook his head, which made Desmond burst out laughing. Grabbing Shaun's hand, Desmond led him out in to the fresh night air to hail a cab so they could start their evening at last.

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><p>Finally our favourite artist makes an appearance. I know it was a small appearance but he'll make bigger appearances later on. Don't fret.<p>

I got sort of lazy with the editing, so I apologize if it's a rubbish chapter XD Please read and review because I need comments to live! D: Well no, not really... maybe not to "live", but they do make me happy.

Also, I didn't reply to reviews as I do normally because I forgot who I have and haven't replied to already because my memory is not the best. I will make it up to you with responses to future chapters, promise! Happy Tuesday!


	6. Chapter 6

Soooo I had most of this chapter actually written and sitting in the document manager for some tweaking and then I waited too long and the website ate my chapter. -epic sigh- So this is different from the first chapter six that I wrote as I don't entirely remember what was in it, but I hope it is still somewhat satisfactory for you dear readers. ^.^ Actually I think I like this one better so maybe it's a good thing that it ate that chapter? I don't even know. I apologize once again for the lengthy wait (I feel like I apologize before every chapter. eep!). Real life has been getting in the way as well as a lack of inspiration in the writing department and a few new games. Just finished getting 100% on Revelations, was also distracted by gears of war 3 and skyrim for awhile. Too many games, not enough time! My thoughts on Revleations at the bottom of the chapter to avoid spoilers... Anyways! Chapter! Here! ^.^

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><p>Altair returned from the simple mission assigned to him feeling anxious and slightly annoyed. The task was one that could have easily been assigned to a novice ranked assassin. Eavesdropping and information retrieval were not acceptable tasks for a master assassin. He suspected that Al Mualim was just trying to keep him busy for some reason or another as that was the only time he ever sent him on such meaningless expeditions. The reason for which he was sent away became abundantly clear when he burst in to his room to find it empty and without any indication that Malik had been there at all.<p>

His chest was momentarily filled with worry and irrational anger while his mind filled with questions. Had something happened to Malik? Some unforeseeable circumstance or complication that had landed him back in the hospital? Was it unrelated to his health and he was just angry with Altair for going on the mission in the first place? Had he just stormed out of the room to avoid seeing Altair? The master assassin briefly but thoroughly searched the room noting that the things he had brought for Malik were missing as was the pillow from his bed.

The next step was to search around the assassin's base for any trace of his friend but he quickly found none. No one had seen Malik since Altair had escorted him back to the living quarters earlier. It was as if the man in question had simply disappeared into the atmosphere. The usual indifferent line of Altair's mouth turned in to a frown as he thought about what could have happened to him. He couldn't see Malik being angry enough with him to leave without mentioning something to someone about where he was going. He was running out of ideas and becoming increasingly worried about Malik's whereabouts.

It was as he was returning to the living quarters to have another check of his room that he walked by Rebecca's room and was struck with a sudden idea. Everyone knew that Rebecca could get in to any computer file. Anywhere. If there was a trail on a computer somewhere... she would find it. He knocked tentatively on her door and when she didn't answer or so much as turn he noticed the headphones around her ears. The computer tech jumped about ten feet in the air when Altair finally entered the room and tapped her on the shoulder. She pulled the headphones down from her ears to rest around her neck and music blared heavily from the speakers. No wonder she hadn't heard anything. It was a miracle she could hear anything at all really and that the level of decibels hadn't decimated her ear drums yet.

"Shit... Altair. You scared me! Problem living with assassins is that you tend to sneak up on each other. Do you need something?" she asked curiously, not at all missing the fact that Altair had sought her out when he barely ever spoke more than two words to her. Not that he ever spoke more than two words to anyone really. Except perhaps Malik and Ezio.

"My apologies. I did try knocking first." The even tone with which he delivered the apology took out all the sincerity but Rebecca shrugged anyways and gave him a bit of a smile. Perhaps she was happy to get anything resembling an apology at all from the surly master assassin. "I was wondering if you could find someone for me." He hesitated. "Malik actually. He is missing. I feel as though he has been moved somewhere though no one seems to know anything about it. Conveniently."

Rebecca's frown matched Altair's momentarily as she caught on to what he was saying. She began typing furiously, words streaming down the screen as windows opened and closed at an alarming pace. Attempting to try and keep track of what she was doing was soon lost on Altair and he looked away from the screen momentarily to avoid being sick from all the activity he was seeing. It took less than 5 minutes for the girl to find what she was looking for. "Aha!" she called out in triumph, making Altair's eyes snap back to the screen. "He's been transferred. And... "promoted". It's all here in Al Mualim's private records."

Altair ignored the part where she mentioned being able to get in to Al Mualim's private computer terminal and instead focused on the news which had his chest constricting and his heart beating painfully against his chest. "Transferred? Where?"

A few more quickly typed prompts and a few new lines of information came upon the screen. "The safe house near the Hamptons. Do you need an address?" she asked, looking at him over her shoulder.

"No," he replied simply. He'd been there last summer. Some big shot politician with a big mouth and a taste for scandal was contracted to him. Predictably he'd found the man in his expensive cottage with two underage girls in his bed. The rest of his mission at that safe house had been a little easier to take. It was one of the quieter safe houses with only 4 or 5 people at it at any given time. If memory served it was a nice place. Peaceful. And altogether too far from the city. What was he to do with Malik so many hours away from him? The thought sounded needy and he dismissed it at once. It was Malik that needed him right now, he convinced himself. He was injured and it was Altair's fault and he had to make it up to him somehow."Thank you. I'd appreciate your-"

"I'm not going to tell anyone," she provided for him, giving him a smile still. She seemed happy in general to have been able to help him. He wondered why but didn't dwell on it for too long before he was turning and walking out of her room without another word. "Good luck! Say hi to Mal!" she called from her chair, putting her headphones back around her ears and going back to whatever she had been hacking before he'd entered her room.

He made his way to the elevator and to the parking garage they had for the use of the assassins. He seated himself on one of the speedier motorcycles and started out on to the streets. He would make it there sometime before sunrise if he was lucky and hopefully no one would notice he was missing if he made it back in time that night to perform his assassination in the downtown area. Which would leave him a couple of hours to spend with Malik. He accelerated the bike even more, whipping through a red light and avoiding a couple cars as he drove like a bat out of hell. His thoughts returned to the strangeness of this whole thing and how convenient it was that Malik would be redistributed the day he'd managed to get him out of the hospital. Very peculiar indeed.

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><p>Shaun led the way up to his apartment and the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Somewhere along the way, in the cab between the bar and Shaun's place, the fun banter had been replaced with an anxious silence. Desmond couldn't help but wonder what had happened. Was Shaun nervous? Desmond knew that<em> he<em> was. He had to talk to Shaun about the arrangement he'd made with Al Mualim. Perhaps Shaun just had the jitters about finally hooking up with Desmond. Perhaps Desmond was just imagining the whole thing but he seriously doubted it. He'd never been more aware of his breath flowing in and out of him and the noise it made than at that moment while he waited for Shaun to unlock his door. Every little sound seemed to be amplified ten fold with the heavy silence that hung between them.

"Come on in," Shaun said quietly, each word deliberate and voice coming out somewhat strained. No, he definitely wasn't imagining the nervousness on Shaun's part.

Desmond looked around the apartment as he pulled off his motorcycle jacket. It was very... Shaun. It was tidy but comfortable. Everything had its place and looked just so. Except, of course, for a desk in the corner which was littered with papers and piles of books. Bookshelves lined the walls and seemed to hold a million different books on history and culture. It would probably give most libraries a run for their money. The open concept office and living room opened up to large windows and a pretty decent view of the street below. Desmond walked over to the window and looked out at the bright lights on the street and the cars and cabs whizzing by trying to figure out how best to broach the subject of what would essentially be an end to Shaun's freedom. At least he'd get to live right? He felt a bitter laugh forming in him but didn't make any noise.

"Would you like a drink?" Shaun asked from the kitchen. Desmond turned to see that Shaun was watching him carefully. "I'm sure after serving drinks all night you're rather desperate for one yourself hm? Seems like an awful tease. I have some decent whisky my dad sent back with me last time I visited..."

Alcohol was probably a bad idea but then the more he thought about what he had to say, the more it became appealing. Some liquid courage couldn't hurt for the news he had to deliver. "Yeah sure..." Desmond replied with a half smile.

Shaun brightened a little and poured them each a generous amount before sitting down on the couch. Desmond joined him shortly after accepting the glass with a nod of thanks and quickly downing the whole thing. The gaping look Shaun gave him made Desmond laugh a little and smile back sheepishly. The Brit crossed the room back in to the kitchen to grab the bottle and returned to the couch, pouring Desmond a fresh glass and setting the bottle on the table for easy access. "Not that terrible looking am I? That you need to drink so heavily?" He was joking but Desmond could tell there was a bit of real insecurity behind the words.

"No!" Desmond said quickly, sliding closer to Shaun and tentatively running his fingers through Shaun's short, messy hair. "That's not it. Believe me..."

As if to prove his point to Shaun, he leaned in and caught his lips. The kiss was slow and deep as Desmond explored Shaun's lips, slowly coaxing them open so that his tongue could further explore. It took only a moment for Shaun to respond, his own tongue sliding against Desmond's in a gentle caress. It was easily one of the most sensual kisses Desmond had ever experienced and he felt his breathing start to pick up a little. If he were at all concerned at whether or not Shaun was getting aroused by their kiss it was shortly answered by the low moan from the other man that Desmond quickly swallowed with a deeper kiss, sliding his hand down behind Shaun's neck to tilt him in to it more. Shaun somehow managed to slide his glass back on to the table while maintaining the kiss and then slid down on to his couch, easing Desmond down with him. Desmond's hands did some exploring of their own, sliding along Shaun's body and feeling the muscles most people would be surprised to know existed. Shaun's hands were busy too; though they'd spent some time resting on Desmond's lower back they now slid down past his hips to give his ass a squeeze. His hips seemed to respond on their own and he ground down in to Shaun, earning another low groan and an answering buck of Shaun's hips. It all felt too good to stop. They could easily get in to things right now but Desmond didn't feel right about that. He had to tell Shaun first. Maybe just after a little-No! Now. If Shaun wanted him after he told him it would be different, but he had to tell him first.

Reluctantly Desmond pulled away and they both panted slightly as they caught their breaths. Shaun threw a confused look at him as Desmond sat back up, though his hand still smoothed along Shaun's thigh of its own accord. He did have nice thighs... "What's wrong?" Shaun finally asked, sounding concerned and pushing his glasses back up his nose where they'd slid down. "I thought everything was going alright. You can't even use the excuse that I'm too drunk this time because I only had a couple..."

"It's not that Shaun. That was... amazing. It's just... well..." Desmond sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Where did he even begin? "I have something to tell you. Before we go any farther. It's only fair that I tell you and I just want to be honest with you and you can decide what you want to do then and... I'm rambling." Way to state the obvious Miles. Shaun was looking at him right now like he had three heads.

"Ooookay?" Shaun said slowly, taking his glass again to take another sip of his whisky. He laughed a bit nervously, "Not going to tell me you're actually married or something silly are you?"

"No. Not married... I wish it were that simple." Shaun gave him a weird look at that. How could anything be worse than adultery? He clearly had no idea. "I'm just going to say it. I know you know... about stuff. And... Fuck, I keep stalling. Shaun... I'm an assassin."

Shaun nodded, "Okay so you're an assassin..."

"No, seriously Shaun. I'm an assassin. This isn't a joke. I've been trained to kill people since I was 6. I'm a part of an ancient brotherhood of trained killers. The same one that I know you've been researching. They know that you know about them now and you're in a lot of danger." There. Just like a bandaid. Quick and painless. Well quick... maybe not quite painless.

It didn't seem to be sinking in if Shaun's blank look was anything to go by. It took him a second before he crossed the room to his desk and started rummaging around for something. Desmond thought back to the journal of Shaun's research that he'd seen Al Mualim reading in his study.

"It's not there. They took it. The grand master of the order has your research now." Shaun turned around and looked at Desmond incredulously like he didn't know how Desmond could know what he'd been looking for. "I didn't know they came to check up on you. I was furious when I found out... believe me. I mean, now that I know I can protect you. I have a plan and everything and..."

"But you're a bloody bartender," Shaun blurted, speaking for the first time since Desmond had revealed all this to him.

"Well I've been hiding from them. I didn't want to be an assassin, you see? I ran away from the order but... they caught up with me. And they know about you now too."

"What do you mean they **know** about me? I'm not an assassin. I've nothing to do with them," Shaun sounded confused and Desmond honestly couldn't blame him. He slowly returned to the couch and sank back down on to it. "Why would they be after me?"

Desmond had the grace to look a little guilty here. Ezio had told him not to feel so responsible. His mentor made it seem as if the order would have found out about Shaun anyways given the depth of his researching and questioning. You could only ask questions like that for so long before it showed up on the brotherhood's radar. Still, it didn't make Desmond feel any better about the situation. "Well... at first, they were just checking you out because you were close to me. They wanted to get rid of loose ties after they brought me back in, you know? But when Altair was snooping around in your apartment he found that journal you keep with all your research notes in it and they found out you were researching the order. Well... not just us. The Templars too. Still, it's a rule. No civilians can know anything about us and as far as the grand master is concerned... you know too much."

The colour drained from Shaun's face as the implications of Desmond's words started to sink in. He slid forward a little closer and rubbed Shaun's thigh reassuringly, "I know it sounds terrible. And it is... but... I found a way out. Sort of. Well actually Malik thought of it... and I'm rambling again because you don't know who that is but I think you and Malik would really get along actually. You're both smart and terribly sarcastic and-"

"Desmond!" Shaun said, snapping Desmond out of his little ramble once again.

"Right! So... the plan! Well I convinced the grand master that simply killing you would be a terrible idea because your research is so valuable and just imagine the research you could do for us with our resources. He seemed to think it was a good idea. Well... that and I also mentioned that they could sort of use the two of us as bait for the Templars. See... the assassins weren't the only ones chasing after me. If the assassins have caught on to me it probably means that the Templars have too. Which means they probably know about you too. But I figured this way... we're ready for them. We could capture a couple and use the opportunity to interrogate them. Plus, this also gives us some time to get to know each other..." Desmond paused, looking over at Shaun nervously because he still looked like he'd vacated the premises. Like Shaun wasn't really there right now. "I just... I really like you Shaun. I'm so sorry that I got you involved in this but just know that I'm going to do everything I can to protect you. Actually, it's kind of a weird coincidence that you were already researching the order when we met... maybe it was sort of meant to be?"

His attempt at humour was met with Shaun's blank stare which quickly turned in to anger. Desmond supposed that he shouldn't have been entirely surprised. Still, it hurt to see it there when moments before Shaun had looked so contented and blissful in his arms. "So let me get this straight. My options are death or enslavement by a secret organization. Stuck forever with the man that got me in to this mess in the first place and never able to see or speak to any of my friends or family again."

"Well sort of but-" Desmond started to dispute but was interrupted by Shaun again.

"There's no _but_ Desmond. It is or it isn't. Is Desmond even your real name? Is anything you told me actually true? Wait, they didn't send you to kill me did they? If I don't agree?" He was starting to panic and Desmond could see it. It was a lot of information at once and he could hardly blame Shaun for his reaction, though he supposed some part of him had been hoping that Shaun would just forget about the whole thing and accept the plan without dispute. He should have known better than to expect things to be that easy.

"No! Of course not! That's not fair. I'm being honest with you now. I didn't tell you before because I was trying to protect you. I can't just walk around the street with a big sign on my shirt saying 'hey, I'm an assassin...' You've done enough research in to our organization to know that that's just not how things work. I lied to you, yes... but I meant everything I ever said to you. It's still me. I really care about you and I thought... I guess I thought maybe you would understand." And he had too. Some part of Desmond had been so sure that maybe, just maybe this would work out okay and Shaun wouldn't mind so much being locked away to do the assassins' bidding as long as he had Desmond there with him. It was stupid of him to think that, he realized now. They hadn't even done anything significant together other than chatting this past month. They hadn't slept together. They hadn't been out on a date. Nothing. Jesus, how stupid can you get Desmond?

Shaun stood up suddenly with a resolve that Desmond hadn't been expecting burning behind his eyes. "Oh I understand. I understand perfectly that you've fucked up my life one way or another. Well I'll tell you what... I'm not going to do it. I want no part of this stupid fight. Just... get out of my flat. Get out now."

"Shaun. Please..." Desmond said softly, getting up and walking over to Shaun. He reached for Shaun's hand but Shaun pulled it away quickly and Desmond felt as though he'd been kicked in the stomach. He straightened up and walked towards the door, opening it to let himself out. Before he left, he turned to look back at Shaun who wasn't even bothering to look at him anymore. "Just think about it. Please. I want to keep you safe. This is the only way I can. Just..." he sighed heavily, "You know where to find me."

He closed the door and hurried down the stairs and out of Shaun's building. Well that could not have gone worse, Desmond thought as he walked down the street. A breeze cut down an alley he was passing and Desmond shivered with the night chill. He'd forgotten his jacket in his haste to escape Shaun's apartment but that didn't matter now. Nothing did if Shaun didn't see reason. One way or another, he wasn't going to let either order get their hands on him. If Shaun didn't accept his offer to join the assassins... He'd have to find another way.

* * *

><p>Altair pulled up the long, curvy drive way that led to the safe house. It was quiet out here and the only noise was the hum of his motorcycle and the rustling of the leaves on the hundreds of trees that lined the roadway. Pulling in to the garage area Altair cut the engine and hopped off the motorcycle. A camera in the corner made a slight noise as it seemed to focus in on him. The master assassin strode quickly out of the garage and out of view. He didn't like being watched and the feeling of cameras on him all day tended to put him on edge. Walking briskly, he made for the house but paused midway to grabbing the door handle. Something told him to go down to the beach and Altair was never one to ignore his instincts. As he walked down the rocky path towards the seaside he looked out over the water and the horizon. The dark sky was streaked with orange and pinky hues as the sun began to rise and he sighed a bit at the sight of it. It was rare when they got time off enough to sit and enjoy such mundane things as watching the sun rise.<p>

As he got to the shore and the deck that had been constructed on the beach below, he spotted Malik sitting on the bench and watching the very sunrise he'd been observing before. Altair's chest filled with contentment and his shoulders relaxed by the mere proximity to his lover. Silently the master assassin walked over and sat close beside Malik on the bench. Malik didn't even need to look up to know who it was. Instead he simply reached over and scooped up Altair's hand with his own, sliding his fingers through Altair's and continuing to watch the sunrise.

"I knew you'd come," Malik said softly after they'd been sitting in comfortable silence for a time, accompanied by a soft sigh. It sounded a lot like resignation to Altair's ears and it pained him to hear it. He wondered why Malik wouldn't be happy to see him.

Altair turned to look at Malik and frowned a little. The dai looked both relaxed and sad at the same time. He couldn't imagine how Malik was feeling about his "promotion". He'd only been out of the hospital a short while and already he was having to deal with the end of his career as an assassin. The slights just kept piling up on top of each other for Malik. Altair would make sure that at least their relationship could remain stable so that Malik would have something familiar to look forward to.

"Of course. I was... furious with him for this," Altair started, sliding his thumb lightly along the top of Malik's hand.

"Past tense," Malik whispered, a bitter half-smile on his face. "When are you going to see what he's doing Altair? When are you going to open your eyes?"

"I-" Altair faltered as he looked down at his knees. He didn't really know how to respond to that. Al Mualim was his mentor and his master; someone he'd come to trust and rely on and someone whose approval he sought with every completed mission. But Malik... Malik was his partner; in the field, in love, in everything. He couldn't imagine ever choosing between the two though it seemed more and more like an inevitability. He could feel the jealousy between the two; both were jealous of the time he got to spend with the other. "The more I thought about it... That is... He knows what is best for the order. He was only looking out for your best interests... I'm sure of it."

The bitter laugh that escaped Malik didn't suit him at all and Altair became increasingly worried of Malik's state of mind. His grip on Altair's hand slackened before he pulled his hand away in disgust. "You really are the perfect pet. He says 'jump' and you ask 'off where?'. He has everyone in the dark and no one seems to see or believe it. But you. You are the worst of all of them. You would take a bullet for our grand master without question and he would sell you out in less than a second if things were reversed. Why don't you see it?" The frustration in his tone was obvious as he looked over at Altair finally. Malik's hand came up and slid the hood of Altair's sweater down to his shoulders, smoothing a hand through the unruly short brown hair underneath. "He's trying to separate us. This is the perfect excuse for him. I could tell he already wanted to before, that he didn't like how close we were but now... Now he can finally get me out of the way. He's hoping you'll forget about me up here. That I won't be around to make you question things and that you'll just scurry along like the perfect little pet assassin he wants you to be and never ask why."

"I won't forget about you," Altair replied stubbornly, reaching up to cover Malik's hand with his own where it rested against the base of his skull. "But he's our grand master Malik. We have to trust him. He has earned his position of honour and trust through his service. He would never betray the order. He has put too much in to it."

"No, of course not..." Malik's voice was hollow in its response as he leaned his forehead against Altair's, nose nuzzling slightly with his. It was plain to him that this was a battle better fought another day. Perhaps once he got more evidence to prove Al Mualim's treacheries. That would be a dangerous path to tread, but if it saved Altair... "Just... promise me you'll think about what he's asking of you. Do your own research and do not just take his word as law. Please. For me. Though you might trust him so blindly, I do not trust the man one bit. I don't want you to get hurt."

Altair smiled a rare smile and pressed his lips to Malik's. The kiss they shared was passionate and deep as they both sought to express their feelings through the gesture. Gestures were the only way Altair ever seemed able to express himself, but Malik had become accustomed to this. "I will be careful," Altair agreed once they pulled apart.

"Good."

Resting his head on Malik's shoulder, Altair grabbed Malik's hand back again and relaxed in to him as they continued to watch the sun rise. At least they could enjoy this moment of peace for a little while longer...

* * *

><p>Malik is perceptive as ever. Dun dun dun.<p>

Also, my poor Desmond -pets him- It'll be okay bb.

SPOILERS FOR REVELTAIONS! SPOILERS! OH NO! SPOILERS!

XXXXX-XXXXX-XXXXX-XXXXX

SPOILERS! You done been warned! Word.

Okay sooooo who else was seriously disappointed with Altair's sections in the game? I was under the impression it would be a little more even but he barely got any play time. And NO MALIK! D: D: D: That was probably the most upsetting. Not even a little cameo. I kept waiting for it and it didn't come and I wanted to kick it. Arg! Still... older Altair kicking ass made me rolling on the floor laughing. He's the most kick ass of all I think -squeezes the air out of him in a hug- I have the biggest crush on him and I'm so terrible at hiding it ha ha

Anyways! Just had to get that out. See if anyone else was as disappointed as I was. As a whole the game was great as usual, just wish there had been more Alty! D:

Thanks for reading kids! Please R & R! Sorry for the long wait. I suck at updating things consistently it seems...


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